


Twisted Cords and Heartstrings

by FluffyGlitterPantsDragon



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Anal Play, Anal Sex, Angst, Bracelet Bros, Dan says "fuck" a lot, Dominant Lucifer, Douchifer, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Lucidan, M/M, Morning Cuddles, No pudding was harmed in the making of this fic, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Pain, Panic Attacks, Restraints, Season/Series 05, Smut, references to other fics, sharing is caring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-15 12:26:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29808378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FluffyGlitterPantsDragon/pseuds/FluffyGlitterPantsDragon
Summary: Dan has a panic attack. Lucifer probably isn’t the best person to actually deal with one, but he has his own creative ideas. It leads to sex.Set somewhere after 5x8, before season 5B drops, Lucifer and Dan have reconciled enough to wear the bracelets again, but Dan is suffering from pretty serious PTSD between being flown around and used by Michael and finding out it's all real.No threesomes here.
Relationships: Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar, Dan Espinoza & Lucifer Morningstar, Dan Espinoza/Lucifer Morningstar
Comments: 12
Kudos: 78





	Twisted Cords and Heartstrings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GlitterSkullFairy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlitterSkullFairy/gifts).



> Well, I missed Fuckruary, but hopefully this makes up for it. Thanks as always to Just_Mad_Enough for putting up with my bouncy ass muse and to Glitterskullfairy for giving it coffee.
> 
> Chloe throws Dan at him - she wants them to work their shit out too.

Dan now knows the real strength behind the hands that capture and hold his wrists like a vise.

His legs stretch uncomfortably, his balance is off and he’s held up almost entirely off his feet.

The fact that the toes of his sneakers are still in contact with the linoleum floor but bear none of his weight makes it almost worse.

The wall takes some of the force. The fact that Lucifer could have simply crushed his wrists (or anything else) instead of merely holding him in place is not far from his mind. In fact, it’s right there, shrieking like a siren in his head, making that primal fight-or-flight reaction stand at attention.

There’s heat and panic. Lucifer’s palms are hot and his grip is unforgiving. Dan can smell his own breath in the confined space, mixed with Lucifers. He can’t move.

 _He can’t move_. Dan has had his hair grabbed by Malcolm, had been chained or cuffed multiple times. He’s had the absolute shit beat out of him during all manner of cases or undercover stings gone wrong. He’s been thrown, pushed, pulled, shoved, and bowled-over. He’s been cut and bled and _somewhere_ in his mind he bears the weight of a dagger in his hand and murderous rage. It's the weird dagger part that's foggy but the rage doesn't seem out of place. He’s been shut out, shut down, and divorced. He saw the Devil’s face and ran away to the closest bar that would keep him topped off as long as his credit cards still worked.

And now he knows angels and devils are real. One of them is holding him against a wall.

His bladder reminds him he had been doing too much drinking recently, threatening to react defensively to Lucifer’s mere presence. The thought of losing all control is sobering enough to snap his attention back to the man holding him up. “You’re hurting me."

Softer than expected eyes look at him closely, “I need you to focus, Daniel."

Dan looks down slightly at Lucifer, his jaw clenched and tense. His wrist bones grind together under large hands and manicured nails. There’s a glory to it that Dan can’t put a name to. It probably has something to do with Sunday school and long-forgotten hymns and prayers. The Devil was, after all, God’s most beautiful child. He thinks about kicking out to break Lucifer’s hold on him, reactionary and violent, even if it won't work. He might as well be cuffed to a pipe in a basement again. 

He needed to break away, to get away from here.

Unlike that other night, Lucifer’s eyes are dark, almost pitch black, swallowing him whole like a hungry python. _Python. Snake. Apple and… oh God was Eve the Eve?!_

Lucifer responds to his flex of pushing hips by pressing closer, pinning his thighs in place, his knees locked by Lucifer’s longer legs. It's suddenly and oddly comforting, distracting him from the pressure of hands on wrists.

He has a thought process now.

He remembers the time right before Lucifer and Amenadiel vanished from a room not far from where they are now. Then, and right after, there was a space of weird calm, as if the universe fell back into place after being pulled back like a slingshot band and then let go again, coming to rest where it was meant to be.

The question, and Dan’s answer, had lingered with him for a long time. He hadn’t meant to say it, even if it was true. It was impossible, out of reach, especially now. The devil had literally stared him in the face and Dan answered, “redemption”. Like Lucifer actually cared, or like it mattered.

Like he could have done something about it

 _Redemption_ is no longer on the table for him, that much is clear to him now, and has been for some time, if he’s honest with himself.

The Devil himself claimed his ex-wife. What about his daughter, what about-

“ _Daniel._ Look at me."

He does, and the flames he _knows_ are there flash behind brown irises, or at least he imagines it this way. The background is different. He’s not actually held up off his feet, only against a bookshelf.

Oh.

He can smell the books now. A place with a lot of books in it just smells _like books_. It’s something that you just know. Paper and pages and leather bindings. Lucifer’s cold, clinging cigarette ash, long put out. Wood and fire, the building blocks of humanity.

“You’re having a panic attack. It’s all right. You’re safe, Daniel."

The Devil just told him it’s all right. _Ha._

Still, something got through. His mind is racing, but he latches on to Lucifer’s words, his presence.

Lucifer presses, “Tell me your name"

The question is wrenching. It shouldn’t be, should it? “You know who I am."

And the command came, as irresistible as the tide. _“Answer me."_

It’s harder than it should have been. He _knows_ his own goddamn name. “Daniel Espinoza."

“You’re _Dan_. I call you Daniel."

Because he can’t do _anything_ right. “Right. No. Dan. I’m Dan."

“There's a good boy."

The unexpected praise brings him further back to earth. There’s acid in his throat, along with a bitter taste of adrenaline. His heart is pounding and he can feel his pulse under large, strong hands. Dan tenses his forearms, feeling the hands over his jacket sleeves, pressing in. It’s dulled by the fabric between them, but he can feel Lucifer’s thumbnail edges separate from the pressure points of fingertip pads.

Lucifer doesn’t give him time to consider it. “Now, where are you?"

“I’m in the interrogation-” he stops. He’s not in the interrogation room. Where the fuck is he? Dan swallows hard on the shame of realizing he’s in the middle of a breakdown of some kind. “I’m...I’m in your living room."

“Very good. Now just breathe. Count to four, in and out. What are you wearing?"

The vise grip on Dan’s wrists has loosened. The backs of his hands are pressed into something hard and unyielding. Not a door frame; Lucifer’s place has no doors. The edges of several shelves press into several parts of him, back of his head, shoulders, butt, calves. There was a question. “My jacket, jeans. Plain tee, socks…” He goes through the list of things as Lucifer then asks him what’s in his pockets. Dan lists those and finishes with, “and I’m wearing my bracelet."

Lucifer is still holding him and standing too close, but now he’s let more pressure off his wrists, letting Dan stand on his own feet and rubbery legs. His whole body is vibrating now. Flicking a look away from Lucifer’s eyes, he can see the matching bracelet that Dan gave him. It feels like an eternity ago.

“I know restraining you may not be the best idea, but you weren’t responding to my voice. I was concerned you might do something rash.” And he really does sound worried.

The amethyst sparkles there when Lucifer turns his hands, looking right back at him like a purple-eyed cyclops.

It’s a weird focus, but he’ll take it.

The rest of his body has caught up to itself, has figured out it’s safe to be here, and promptly let go, hitting the floor like a sack of potatoes. 

Lucifer makes a frustrated noise and scoops him up like a fucking child. “Honestly-”

Dan’s eyes are wet. He can feel himself wanting to protest but can’t. It’s pure misery but he can’t seem to command his limbs in the slightest. Lucifer has his arm under his back, wrapped around him and the other under his knees, carrying him bridal style. He can’t remember being cradled like this in recent history. The heat from him a moment ago had been adding to his panic. Now he wanted to cling to it. 

Michael had been a lot less gentle, but Dan didn’t remember much after take-off. What with the fainting and all. 

He’s placed carefully in one of Lucifer’s decadent leather chairs. He’s given a pillow which he hugs tightly. He squeezes his eyes shut and wants to be anywhere else right now. If embarrassment could be a bruise, he’d be sucking on it. But it’s comfortable and he spares a second of gratitude toward his host. 

Cold and wet presses against one of his hands and he automatically takes a bottle of chilled water. He’s not especially aware of Lucifer leaving and coming back, but grateful he’s not been summarily tossed off the balcony after what he’s done.

Oh God. _Don't think about it!_ Dan tried to kill his friend. In front of his ex-wife.

Even after that, Lucifer still wore his bracelet. 

The insanity of it all threatens to choke him.

“Daniel.”

Dan opens his eyes. “What?”

“Tell me what you’re thinking about.”

His jaw works. His mouth is dry. An open bottle presses against his lips and he swallows, feeling the cold hit his stomach immediately and spread in his torso. “I don’t want to tell you that.”

“Trust me, I’ve heard it all.”

“From the damned. In Hell.”

Lucifer sighs heavily. “It was a job. One I had no say in accepting, I might add.”

Dan doesn’t really know what to say to that, so he says nothing.

Lucifer prompts, “tell me what’s on your mind.”

“You really don’t want to know.”

“No. I actually don’t. But I can’t have you useless in my penthouse all night. It’s not the first time my real face has caused severe problems, but as everyone else seems to have gotten over it, I can only assume you will as well, even if it’s damn annoying in the meantime. So. Empty your mediocre thought process and get it over with, will you?”

 _This is ridiculous_. “This is ridiculous.”

“No, _everyone else_ is ridiculous. I’ve told all of you who I am, yet seeing is believing, apparently.”

“Can you just, turn it on and off?”

“I am not a _lightbulb_ , Daniel. But generally yes. Usually, I can control it, but not always.”

That night comes back, and Dan pushes down his reaction, shutting it down as much as he can. The fear is coming back quickly, violently. What he saw. What he ran away from.

Lucifer touched his hand gently, too gently. “Daniel. Talk to me.”

Part of him wants to launch himself out of the chair, throw himself over the railing, punch something. He grips the cushion tighter and makes himself look at Lucifer. “Is that what you really look like?”

“For all the time I was in Hell, yes, it was an option. Dr. Linda believes it might be manifested, that I might have some control over my own appearance. I couldn’t access it for several months, then it came back again with a vengeance. And accessories.”

“Dr. Linda _Martin_ knows?”

“She was the first of you humans, yes. She recovered well enough, though it took her a bit. If you want to talk to her, she can be very helpful.”

He already had but didn’t feel like mentioning that. Nor the fact that before that, they’d nearly drunk-made-out on that very sofa. She’d made an interesting comment about men and power tools along with something broken at her place, then passed out shortly afterward. He wonders if she ever got it fixed. His brain swam back. “Us?”

“Other living humans have seen that form in my past visits to Earth, but it never went well. Dr. Martin was the first human to really recover, that I know of. She thinks it has to do with the fact I’d already had a number of sessions with her before she saw it.”

Dan loosens his grip on the pillow long enough to take a sip of water on his own. “Who else?”

“The detective, obviously, although that was unintentional. Yourself, now, also unintentional. Candy, on purpose. I suspect your daughter just knows, but she’s never seen me that way. Either way.”

He ignores the ‘either’ comment. “What about Ella? Maze?”

Lucifer snorts harshly. “Ms. Lopez remains in the dark. Mazikeen is literally my right-hand demon. Or was. I brought her with me from Hell.”

Of course Maze is a demon. Right. “Amenadiel. He was there, next to you, when you-”

“My actual brother, yes. I have many siblings.”

The connection isn’t quite making it, but Dan can feel it there, trying to surface for a gasp of life-giving air. “He’s from Hell too?” Even as he said it, it felt stupid.

“My _angelic_ brother. We were never that close before my Fall. The last few years have been...good.”

Some of the capital letters began sinking in. “So it’s true? You were cast out...of heaven?” _Oh shit._ “For...rising against God?”

Lucifer sighed. “I was responsible for a rebellion, and it cost me. But it wasn’t nearly as dramatic as you might have been led to believe. I lost my position and was _given_ Hell to rule over. Not my first choice, but apparently it was that or complete destruction, according to Mum.”

Dan mentally reached for something he could actually understand while ignoring the new capital letter. “Michael. He looks like you.”

“He’s my twin. No, not all angels have twins. I’ve suspected my entire existence that he may simply be choosing to look like me rather than make his own form. Bit of a simp.”

The sheer Luciferishness knocked Dan for a loop, but also back towards his tenuous grip on reality, and he felt himself cracking an involuntary smile.

Lucifer was always who he had been. An eccentric, rich Neverland boy who brought donuts to work and… “I shot you, man.”

“Yes, you did. Luckily it didn’t take.”

“You’re not mad?” Dan is asking the Devil if he is mad. He felt his brain cells skittering in different directions. But at least he was starting to feel his own thoughts again.

“Daniel. You may be a douche, but you do care. Perhaps your first instinct upon believing your ex-wife is in danger should stop being to murder someone though.”

“What else was I supposed to do? Michael said it would work?”

“Michael is a _twit_. Don’t you think if he really believed that, he would have just shot me himself? Or sent someone else with a gun up to see me? No, he picked you because he’s shallow. He’s vindictive but not smart.”

“Oh. Uhm.”

“He believed that having one of my friends turn on me would damage me somehow. He’s only a little correct because he’s absolutely terrible with thinking things through. For what it’s worth, if I had been killed, you would _definitely_ end up in Hell over the guilt of murdering me, regardless of your motivations.”

“Michael said Chloe was in danger. That you would take her to Hell-”

Lucifer snort-laughs, nearly choking in disbelief. “Absolutely _not_. If I’m ever forced to return, I assure you I’ll be taking no passengers, no matter how much Maze bitches about it. And if Dad sends another sibling after me to send me packing, they’re going to be short some feathers by the time I’m through with them.”

“Yeah, Chloe would fucking kill them.”

Lucifer stares at him for a full two seconds before bursting into laughter.

It catches him entirely off-guard, but the sound is welcome, filling the whole apartment with a wave of sound and emotion. Dan manages to grin a little. “I’m not wrong.”

Lucifer wipes tears from his eyes, “no, you’re not. But she and you are still human.”

That sobered Dan a little. He drained his water bottle and Lucifer handed him another. He broke the seal and regarded the cap. “Thank you.”

He took a shaky breath. Lucifer, literal Satan, handing him a bottle of water. A second one, actually. Wearing the bracelet Dan had made him to match his own. He flexed his toes, feeling the blood in his body resuming a normal pace. 

Lucifer, stepping down from his throne to hang out with humans. And not just as play-things. Normally, he’d trust Chloe’s judgment, but she did almost marry Pierce, for fuck’s sake. But Lucifer had never hurt Trixie. Amenadiel - angel or otherwise - trusts Lucifer with Charlie. 

_Charlie. Charlotte. You’d be like, Lucifer’s step-dad._

Dan opened his eyes again, not realizing they’d closed. “Charlotte?”

“Ah. Well. Yes, she knew.”

He pointed his water bottle at Lucifer, “I fucking _knew_ it.”

“Knew what?”

He felt himself getting angry again. “Before she died, she had been having nightmares. She said I was in one of them.”

“I assure you, that was not my fault. Charlotte, during some time before she was killed, was only herself. Before the pier incident and right before you met her, she housed the entity that is my Mother.”

His brain hurt. “I need a drink.”

Lucifer sniffed him. “Drink your water. I think you’ve had enough alcohol. Coming from me, that’s saying something. Nice to see you’re feeling better.”

Lucifer stole his pudding. Lucifer loves his ex-wife. Loves Chloe. He already knew Trixie adored Lucifer, and if he was right about her knowing him, who he is… “yeah. Uhm. Why am I here?”

“I suppose you’re asking how you ended up here, in my chair. Do you not remember?” He looked kinda hurt, actually.

Oh, balls. “This was supposed to be a thing, wasn’t it?”

He starts to gesture to where Dan had a meltdown then decides not to draw attention to it. It’s still obvious as shit, but he tried to rein it in, so that counted for something. “I believe you had a little too much at the bar before coming up. I’d gotten bored and was lying on the couch. Then you panicked and I had to restrain you. I admit, it probably made it worse for a few moments there, but it was that or haul you bodily into the shower, turn on the cold water and hold you there. Which would have been even less fun for either of us.”

Dan has a very distinct mental response to that that he chooses not to vocalize. Instead, he said, “Wow, I really fucked this up, didn’t I?”

“It’s not your fault. Feel free to blame Dad for the short-circuiting. I’m certainly happy to be far more stable than you lot.”

It’s Dan’s turn to make a face. “You are the _least_ stable person I know.”

“That is definitely a lie.”

“Alright, fine. But I’ll still trade you.”

“Immortality for mental breakdowns? No thank you.”

“Well. you’re not the one going to Hell, so.”

“You’re not serious.”

“I’m sure as fuck not going to Heaven. Chloe and Trixie and everyone else I know are.”

“I’d go back to Hell for her. I don’t know if I’d go to Heaven.”

“Either the bible got everything wrong or I’m not drinking enough.”

“It’s different for you. We’re practically a different species.”

“A different species you want to have sex with all the time.”

“Present company excluded.”

Dan jabbed a finger at him, “you don’t mean that.”

Lucifer crosses his legs. “I’m banging your ex-wife. Trust me, she’s the better catch of the two of you.”

“Yeah, well, if you ever hurt her-”

“You’ll shoot me? Been there, done that.”

“...I think you’re just mad you don’t get to have sex with everyone else anymore.”

There’s this way-too-long pause that makes Dan look at him again. “I swear to God, if you’re cheating on Chloe,”

“No need to bring _Him_ into this. No, not at all.”

Dan rubs his wrist where Lucifer had gripped him. His fingers bump the bracelet. "I'm just saying, don't underestimate me. And you're telling me you _never_ wanted to sleep with me?"

"...Nope."

He looks pointedly at Lucifer, "you stole _my_ pudding, drank _my_ coffee right out of my own damn mug, dressed like me, and never thought about it?"

"It certainly sounds like you have. And the Douche Patrol bit was just for work."

"Sure. I just don't get it. I mean, I'm not a ten, but I keep myself up." 

Lucifer's face works through a few different expressions. "You’re going to make me say it? You slept with my _Mum_."

Dan curls up a little tighter again. "There's no way Charlotte was your _mother_."

"The Goddess of all Creation was in Charlotte's body for a period of time, so yes, she was."

He scrubs his face with one hand. "Jesus. I mean, no, but. Oh my God."

"Yes, I imagine He will have some words with you at some point. Normally, I doubt He'd care at all since He banished Her too. But, well, let's stop talking about my Parents."

Yes, let’s think about Their stupid sexy son instead. If the chair could just reach up and swallow him, that would be awesome right now. "Ngh."

"If it makes you feel better, she was quite pleased with you in bed. I heard about it numerous times despite asking her to _shut up_ about it."

The pressure of his hand on his face helps a little. Gaps between his fingers open. Nope, still alive. Not struck down by lightning. Or eaten by the chair. Yet. "I am truly fucked, aren't I?"

Lucifer looks like he very badly wants to make a dirty joke, but also like he'd just stubbed his toe at the exact same time. “How are your wrists?”

The thought process of remembering flashes of Charlotte tangled up in his bedsheets ran full tilt screaming into the more recent sensation of being restrained and held in place. By Lucifer. He tried very hard not to have the most awkward boner ever, clutching his pillow a bit harder against his hips, which didn’t help anything.

Dan didn’t answer right away. Lucifer gives him a longer look, recognizing it immediately because of course he did. “Do we have a bit of a vanilla fetish then?”

He probably looks like he just sucked on a lemon. “It doesn’t matter. It’s fine.” He couldn’t resist adding, “you know, Chloe’s not exactly a sub.”

New interest sparks behind dark eyes and he takes the step between them from the couch. “No, she’s not.” Lucifer’s arms bracket him, his body humming with energy but giving Dan enough space to breathe. Or scramble away. He doesn’t do either, sucking in a gasp and holding it. “What are you doing?”

“Clearly, we just need to get this thing cleared up between us.”

No, _now_ he has the worst shame boner ever. “I thought you _didn’t_ want to have sex with me?”

“Well, if I _don’t_ have sex with you, I’ll never stop worrying that particular bone. And you clearly want to bone me.”

Sure, in the sense of he’s curious, but now that Lucifer and Chloe are together - “What about Chloe?”

Lucifer was very very close now, purring almost, “would it help if she said I had permission?”

His throat constricts, but some part of him realized it wasn’t an answer. “Yes, it would.”

The Devil wore a very put-out expression. “I don’t lie, you know.”

“Okay, but that wasn’t an answer.”

With the biggest sigh Dan had ever heard, Lucifer stabs the screen of his phone with a finger.

"What are you-”

“Detective? I have a problem.”

“ _Lucifer? What happened?_ ”

“Daniel _refuses_ to have sex with me.”

Okay, no, NOW would be a perfect time for the floor to fall out from under him and like, a meteor shower to wipe out all of LA. Or, you know, the planet.

_“Is he there?”_

Maybe if he doesn’t say anything, she won’t remember he exists.

Lucifer shoves the fucking phone in his direction, despite it being on speaker. Dan snags it. “Chlo.”

_“Look, we don’t exactly have an open relationship, since I’m not interested in anyone else. But, there are things I can’t do for him. And some things I won’t do for him.”_

The original discussion he and Chloe had had about some of those things came to mind. It was a short list, but still. He let go of some of the tension in his shoulders. “And you think this will help?”

 _“I think it will help_ you _.”_

Whatever the fuck that means. Lucifer waited there on his knees at Dan’s feet, impatient. Dan decides not to ask how it could possibly help, rubbing his bare wrist again with his free hand. He can’t deny there’s been a _thing_ hovering there _._ Plus, Dan kind of owes him something, after-

Lucifer squeezes Dan’s knee, “Daniel? Are you done internally rationalizing yet?”

Well. He was never one to argue _too_ hard with Chloe. “Yeah.”

The phone drops. Lucifer surges forward, pressing Dan’s forearms down onto the chair arms. Part of him thinks this is an absolutely terrible idea. Part of him wants to see what on earth Chloe thinks this could do. 

Part of him revels in having his arms trapped. He leans back, shifting his hips forward and allowing himself a little more breathing room. One of Lucifer’s hands press against the bracelet around Dan’s wrist, digging the edges of the rock into his pulse point there on the inside of his arm.

Their lips brush and pull back, and Lucifer asks him that question. 

It’s probably supposed to be sexy. It probably worked on hundreds or thousands of partners in the past. Except Dan doesn’t know what he wants anymore, and it takes him out of the moment. Getting his dick sucked by the King of blowjobs sounded like it should be high on the list of desires right this second, with those eyes devouring him and promising satisfaction. But being serviced isn’t what he _wants_. He wants to be taken apart. To forget everything until he’s a boneless heap. He wants to drink less and fight less. He wants to come home from work to an apartment that’s not empty, or at least not think it so hollow with just himself. He wants his daughter to finish growing up with (at least) two parents. He wants Chloe to be happy. The question of _desire_ restructures to a question of _need._ What he _needs._ What he needs right now.

Is to stop thinking. 

That might be what he finally says out loud, because a pair of strong thumbs press harder, and his mouth is busy and he’s breathing someone else's breath, and someone larger and much stronger than him is manhandling him like a big doll. Dan lets him. He doesn’t fight it. 

He’s swept up in someone’s arms for the second time tonight and he’s around ninety percent sure he’s going to freak out again at some point. Partly because Lucifer still looks like Michael, but he doesn’t sound like him. Or even really act like him all that much. 

Lucifer kisses him down to the bed. Shoes and socks are thrown off the bed. The hem of his jacket gets tugged and pulled off, catching for a second on the sleeve cuff by the bracelet and nearly ripping fabric. Lucifer’s over him, straddling his hips, straining uncomfortably in his jeans and nearly unable to move from the waist down. Dan starts to reach for the tie on the bracelet but Lucifer stops him. “From here on out tonight, you aren’t allowed to do anything other than what I tell you. Got it?”

He hears a groan from his own throat and it’s needier than he would have liked, but he nods.

Lucifer unbuttoned his dress shirt, adding, “now, do you have or need a safe word? I’d prefer to just take a ‘no’ at face value, but-”

“Yes and no works fine for me. I’m not sure I’d remember a special word if it came down to it in an important situation.”

“Put your hands above your head. I'm going to begin with restraints. If that's a problem, tell me now.”

The answer comes out almost without thought. "No cuffs. Anything else is fine, as long as I can get out of it myself. Nothing heavy." The silk or whatever sheets feel nice on his back as he does as requested, getting comfortable and stacking his wrists over his head. It makes him feel willfully vulnerable. He's done this before, just not with Lucifer. It's thrilling and calming at the same time, having faith that Chloe herself would rip Lucifer a new one if he mishandles Dan.

"Perfect. I have just the thing. Something brand new that I hadn't gotten to try yet." Lucifer tugs his own bracelet off and sets it aside before removing his shirt. The weight shifts back and forth, and he’s pretty sure it's being done on purpose. He can feel hardness through layers of pants and it makes him strain toward it, lifting his hips. 

Lucifer flexes his muscles and rises up, just out of reach with a finger wag. “Your job right now is to lie still and look pretty. Can you do that?”

Dan starts to respond, but then sinks down into the sheets and says nothing. 

“Excellent. You may moan or vocalize as much as you like. But _no_ questions.”

Dan presses his tongue to the back of his teeth.

Instead of stripping them further, Lucifer settles again, wiggling to find the sweet spot where they’re both pressing against each other. Fully dressed from the hips down, Dan can feel heels and feet pressing against the outside of his thighs. Lucifer's erection is warm and hard through the layers. “Close your eyes.”

He does. It’s almost a position he could sleep in. Lucifer leans without rising, reaching for something. A moment later, he grips Dan’s crossed wrists, pushing them down into the space behind Dan’s head and the headboard, but there's plenty of room. Something bites into his skin, something narrow and cold, then warming up to his body temperature. He peeks up because Lucifer said to close his eyes, not keep them closed. He's not being hooked to the headboard, just bound in place. That's good.

He’s got a view of perfectly sculpted abs and further up, the bottom of Lucifer’s chin where something shiny dangles from his mouth. He bites his tongue on the question, but Lucifer leans back from whatever he was doing and takes the thin silver chain from his lips where he’s holding several loops of it. It trails from over Dan’s head down to Lucifer's hand. The hand clenches, adding the slightest tension to _pull_ Dan’s arm hair right near the wrists, making him gasp. His tormenter looks satisfied, gathering up the rest of the - what seems to be a very long necklace chain.

Lucifer trails a loop of it over his neck, a combination of tiny links with sharp edges and smooth, bright metal squares that almost sparkle as they catch the light. He stops to kiss Dan again, threading the chain behind his head and around his neck, just once. Dan breathes through his nose, taking Lucifer’s body weight and surrendering. His rough stubble pokes sharp points against his face and there’s a tongue in his mouth. Lucifer is a thorough kisser, slow enough to make Dan want more, hard enough to make him push back a little. He can hear himself breathing harder in the quiet of the penthouse and knees shifting on sheets. 

Lucifer has let the chain pool on Dan’s belly, letting it lie there to touch his neck and chest with wide hands and firm fingers. Palms cup his face and fingernails start to dig into his scalp. Dan moans appreciation, taking as long as he can before having to break the kiss to breathe. There's that predatory smile of his, as he pulls Dan's lower lip lightly between his teeth and lets go. Dan is a person-shaped throne with Lucifer straddling him, tall and full of presence, ownership, with wide spread legs and an imaginary crown.

Lucifer takes up the chain and drapes it across his Dan's lips, before considering where the rest of it goes. He loops it one more time around Dan’s neck, leaving it to lie across his collarbones and hang off his pecs. He makes an 'up' motion, so Dan grins, gathers himself and _heaves_ Lucifer up on his hips, abs burning in protest. (his back is going to kill him tomorrow, but fuck it.) Lucifer smiles with impressed approval and passes the chain under him a few times, looping it back up to his shoulders. He's bestowed pity and allowed to drop back down to the bed, panting. The chain doesn't pull too bad under him, but it's not entirely comfortable. 

Without breaking his gaze, Lucifer opens his belt, snaking it out with the soft sounds of leather and expensive wool. He lets it dangle from one finger and drops it on the floor with a clunk, then repeats it on Dan, unthreading it from around him and his off-the-shelf pants. Manicured nails rake down his stomach, to his jeans, popping them open. Instead of providing relief, Lucifer resettles himself, grinding hip to hip every time he moves. 

Repeating the earlier process, he retrieves another thin chain and winds it loosely around Dan’s right arm, then another around his left, until any slight motion pulls on his skin there. After a little more consideration, Lucifer unbuttons and unzips his dress pants, revealing more of himself. 

Dan bites his lip and resists the temptation to move his hips. He’s rewarded with a firm squeeze through his jeans that doesn’t last long enough. He tastes the metal length on his tongue as Lucifer finds yet more silvery chain and criss-crosses the paths around his arms, to make a diamond pattern. Dan can now tell they have necklace connectors every two or three feet, except they’re magnetic. He could break free from them at any time. The careful wrapping work would stay mostly in place, but Dan can free his elbows and wrists if he really needed or wanted to. Lucifer starts adjusting them to make the tension more consistent. He makes a show of pulling a few apart to test the strength of the connections. The magnetic ends are strong enough to snap back together easily from a centimeter apart, but aren't powerful enough to work between fingers. He’s taking his time, threading them over and under each other, latticing over him, breaking and putting them back together as he goes.

He’s wearing the bracelet again, but Dan missed when he put it back on. 

The head of Lucifer's cock rocked against Dan's abs with every adjustment, and he’s painfully hard in his pants. He's straining in every sense of the word. Lucifer grins at his work and kisses him with the chain between their lips and it bites into his tongue. He swallows a little too much saliva and it tastes like Lucifer. His sense of smell is filled by Lucifer and pricey cologne. He tastes metal and teeth and feels the press of short hairs and tiny links of silver chain. He wants to twist into it, push and pull against it.

But he hasn't been told to. 

He can feel Lucifer's smile around and between kisses, the weight of his taller body, the press of a corded bracelet against his neck and then his side, very lightly scraping the jagged crystal down the center of his chest. When he doesn't think he can take it anymore, Lucifer says, "you can move."

Dan shoves his hips up and away from the soft bed again, seeking friction. He stretches his arms against his bonds, feeling every link touching his skin and pulling every hair they touch on like a tiny bite or shallow pinch. He surges toward Lucifer's open palm on his stomach, and there's some pre-come at his low waist, slick and warm. 

He wrenches, hard and aching. 

And Lucifer smiles down at him. He pulls his cock out and strokes it a few times, watching him. Dan groans, pushing his hips up. 

"Look at you. All laid out for me."

Lucifer grips himself a little tighter, faster. "Look up."

Dan does, not having noticed the mirrored ceiling before but definitely understanding it now.

He _glittered_ , shining with tension. He can see Lucifer's back and shoulders, all the way down to his ass crack peeking from his trousers taut over his buttocks. He has a view of Lucifer jerking himself off from two angles, and himself, tied up and straining. 

Lucifer's face tensed, eyes half-closed and watching Dan, until he came, spilling on Dan's barely open pants. 

It’s almost enough to make Dan come too.

Lucifer works himself, a hot and sticky mess, finally finishing with a full-body shudder.

Then he unzips Dan, rolls his jeans and underwear down and off in one go, and licks his cock. 

His whole body jerks with sudden pleasure, finally able to spread his legs a little. There's more than a little fluid cooling on him.

"Even prettier than I could have hoped for."

He isn't as big as Lucifer, but he always felt like he had a better-than-average dick. No one ever called it _pretty_ before though. He flushed at the praise, and more so when Lucifer licks some of himself off Dan, sucking right down his shaft without gagging or showing discomfort.

It sends a thrill up his spine. " _Fuck_."

He stops after just a few seconds, moving on to his balls, breathing harder against his groin, a hot, wide tongue pressing under his dick. Dan looks up again, watching Lucifer's frankly gorgeous back, his head bobbing on Dan's cock again, stopping, teasing his balls in a cycle. Then there's a finger probing further back. 

He lifts his hips. Dan feels exploration, one finger pressing under him, just touching the rim of him.

When there's no protest, Lucifer scoops up lube from -somewhere- and applies it. A fingertip presses in, then another and stops almost immediately. Lucifer sucks him down, making his fingers distracting enough that Dan can't focus on just one sensation. He hasn't done _this_ in a while, and the slight stretch burns to start, but not bad. There's not _quite_ enough lube, not _quite_ enough suction, not _quite_ enough...

"Turn over."

Dan manages it without help, links of the chain leaving a shallow mark, pulling on hairs and skin. By the time he flips over, he's panting and out of breath, but a fight well worth the effort. Shifting on the bed gets the pillow under his chest. He can't see Lucifer anymore, but he can feel him. 

Once he settles, Lucifer draws lines on his back with his fingernails, causing goosebumps and shivers. Cool air hits his backside and Lucifer starts doing this thing where he's lightly massaging from his shoulders to thighs, thumb pads teasing his asshole. Lucifer's heavy, very full cock is resting between his legs, close. Right when Dan is on the verge of asking for more lube, Lucifer is a split second ahead of him, dripping it from the bottle directly where it needs to go, on them both. 

Lucifer catches Dan's hips, moving closer until his dick is pressing shallowly in the right spot, just shy of enough pressure to enter. 

He wants to scream. To beg. Lucifer feels his tension and slows his movements. 

They're like that until Dan relaxes, surrendering to Lucifer's skill and knowledge. It's not easy. 

The first press and slide and grab of his body pulling Lucifer in finally happens. The initial burn of something bigger than two fingertips passes. Dan lets his breath go. There's a grunt and moan. Lucifer has his legs pressed together, slowly fucking into him. The smooth sheets give Dan no leverage whatsoever, depending on Lucifer to hold him down and in place.

Lucifer holds his shoulders, pressing parts of the chain into his skin, rolling his hips. 

He doesn't say anything, letting Dan pick a sensation to focus on. He leans down, wrapping his entire body around Dan's, bearing into him, his breath on Dan's neck, lips and teeth and tongue. 

The weight shortens his breath, making it harder. There's sweat and slick. He doesn't have to think, just take it. Lucifer is hot and hard, not quite hitting the sweet spot, but this isn't the best angle for it. Lucifer moves with driving force, slapping skin to skin, biting Dan's neck and one ear, hard enough to distract.

Lucifer puts all his weight on Dan, tightening his body harder and harder until he comes, jerking his hips hard and holding himself. In a moment or two, he moves again, reaching up to break the magnets that hold Dan's wrists together. Dan is hauled up to his knees, legs re-arranged so he can lean against Lucifer's lap. His dick is red, hard and any amount of friction away from exploding. 

Lucifer wraps his arms around Dan's waist, fucking him in earnest now. 

He's dripping sweat, pinched in multiple places and feels...good. 

Very good. Lucifer reaches low, cupping his balls, holding the base of Dan's cock to keep it from slapping, and from the much-desired friction. 

He whines. 

Lucifer loops a finger through some of the chain across his chest, and it tightens right over both nipples. 

This time he does scream. 

By the time Dan thinks might ejaculate from willpower alone, Lucifer pulls his hips back, changes the angle again and _pounds_ him, sliding his grip up Dan's cock and jacking him. 

It's almost too much. 

He's tight. His balls are tight, his body is tight, and every arm hair feels like it's being slowly pulled out, pinching in points all over his upper body. 

He holds his breath, leaning as far back as he can, held in Lucifer's ridiculously strong grip.

He begs the universe for release, and gets it.

He fucking comes hard enough to ruin a pillow or two, hard enough to white out for a second. 

Lucifer is slowly working him through it, but his sensitivity skyrockets and he lets go so Dan can collapse.

* * *

Dan is getting real tired of fainting.

At least he's warm. And the blankets are really nice. The space around him feels bigger than normal. He'll get up and shower soon, but not yet. He's utterly spent and his brain isn't bothering him. 

Holy fuck, he actually _slept._ He thinks he dreamt, too. Of spires and high arches. Nothing that left him thinking of odd, square blue stones and dark halls, for a change. It was really really good. He wakes up a little more, without urgency for the first time in months. He's definitely embarrassed that he passed out without doing something for Lucifer in return, but there's probably still time. God, Dan didn't even really touch him, did he? They were touching now, Lucifer's longer body pressed up behind him and tangled together. Lucifer's lips are on the back of his neck. He doesn't bother to open his eyes just yet. This is far too comfortable. Even Lucifer's fucking morning wood sliding against his thigh is bizarrely comforting.

And he's _safe_.

What is his life even? Fuck it. Yeah, he's safe. 

Just a few more minutes. 

He thinks someone says something.

"Mlrg"

"Good morning, Daniel."

Morning? 

_Morning?_

Dan shoots the rest of the way awake to find the early sunlight lighting up the curtains around the bed. He's handed a new, opened water bottle, and he downs it without hesitation. He fell asleep sweaty and gross and Jesus Christ is that _Chloe_?

Lucifer distracts him with a kiss. It almost works. Dan starts to try leap out of the bed but he's still naked and covered in...stuff. There's still an arm around him.

Chloe - _Jesus it is Chloe_ \- holds another bottle. But she's smiling lightly. "Sorry, I didn't actually mean to be here when you woke up, but I wasn't expecting you to stay the night."

Lucifer, utterly ignoring his scrambling protests, hooks a leg over both of Dan's and nuzzles his back, yanking him back into little spoon position. At least Lucifer removed all the chains. 

He's _covered_ in marks. And stuff. "Chloe. Uhm."

She's not angry. He expected her to be. She's dressed for work, probably dropping by for breakfast or to collect her partner for the day. "I brought donuts. They're on the counter."

Lucifer, to his continuing, new horror, sounds like he's making kissy faces at Chloe.

She laughs a laugh that used to be for him and shakes her head. "Get cleaned up first. Or take your time and I'll see you at work, okay?"

Dan can't help it. _I didn't mean to bogart your boyfriend_. "I can leave."

Lucifer grumbles and continues to aggressively boner-cuddle him. This is the worst-best morning of his entire life.

Chloe rattles a bottle of pills. "I've seen way worse, trust me. Tylenol?"

"...yes please."

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, I have NO idea if the chain thing exists or not. But there's a lovely photo floating around that inspired it.
> 
> For real though, Dan is gonna need a lot of therapy.


End file.
